Sleep Not for the Beast Walks: Breach
by Silverneko9lives0
Summary: A prophet yet to foretell of a boy who will kill a Dark Lord…Jeremy Campbell has always lived in the safety of the Refuge, but when his best friend runs away, he embarks on a mission to bring her back. HP futuristic, disregards events in books 6&7.
1. Prologue

Prologue

It was once foretold by the Sorceress Morgan le Fay, sister and rival of the Muggle King Arthur:

_A prophet yet to foretell of a boy who will kill a Dark Lord…_

_Her prophecy will be void when the Dark Lord brings forth a child…_

The rest of the prophecy was lost over time and soon forgotten and not one record of it was left by the middle of the Dark Ages.

But now…the prophecy—the _whole _prophecy—is about to come to pass…

Utter darkness.

Day in and day out, light did not exist for her world.

Light was a nuisance that came into her domain three times a day to deliver a meager meal to keep her alive.

Her name was Helena Therese Riddle, the daughter of Tom Marvolo Riddle—Lord Voldemort. Her title was "Beast."

She had been locked away after she had massacred not only Muggles and Muggle born wizards and witches, but also a number of her father's followers—the Death Eaters.

She had no idea how much time passed anymore.

The door opened a fourth time that day, blinding her with annoying light. Helena glanced up from her chain prison and glared at the person who had entered her domain. "What do you want now?" she murmured.

"It's almost time," the Death Eater told her. "Lord Voldemort is waiting."

Helena smirked. "So I'm finally going to be released? Why does Father want me now?"

"Your plan's been put into action," he said, unlocking her chains. "Everyone's ready to see the downfall of the Dark Lord. Pansy will clean you up, milady."

Helena smirked.

_Twenty years ago, Hermione was adopted by a Muggle Family of the name Granger._

_Her true Father, Lord Voldemort, had allowed the adoption simply because Hermione would be considered his weakness. And the Dark Lord was anything but weak._

_Deep inside Hermione, his daughter—Helena—slept. He had sealed her true nature deep inside her._

_For the days after his resurrection, he kept mentioning how he longed for his daughter to return._

_No one would know what he meant until Hermione Granger turned seventeen years old._

_Not even she knew her real name until she awoke…_

_Helena Therese Riddle._

_She killed her best friends and her lover._

_This act earned her the title of the Beast and was the turning point of the war against the Dark Lord Voldemort._

_However…_

_Helena was more ruthless than her father could handle…_

_On New Year's Eve 1998, Voldemort ordered that Helena be locked away until she was needed again._

Helena walked into the meeting hall. The Death Eaters stood when she entered. The room stank with enough fear. The door closed and Helena smirked.

Voldemort did not rise, but stared at his daughter, hiding his shock.

"M-my Lord…we were not aware that you ordered Helena to be released."

"I did not," he said. "Tell me, Helena. Who released you?"

Helena began to laugh. "No," she said. "I don't think I will."

The younger Death Eaters stood and aimed their wands at their parents, aunts, uncles, even their grandparents.

"Your orders, Lady Helena?" Pandora Uriell asked.

"Kill them."

With a loud chorus of _"Sectusempra," _the young cleaned away the old.

Voldemort remained impassive to the massacre. Helena jumped onto the table and walked towards her father. "A new era, is dawning indeed, Daddy Dearest," she purred, unsheathing her wand. "Poor Daddy," she spat, "despite his quest for immortality, it doesn't change the fact that, at some time, everything withers. Everything must come to an end." Voldemort pulled his wand out. "Everything must die."

"AVADA KEDAVRA!!"

"SECTUSEMPRA!!"

_But on the Eve of the Twenty-First Century..._

Helena grabbed Voldemort's corpse and tossed it to join the rest of the bodies.

"What do we do with them now, my lady?" Vincent Crabbe asked her. Two black wolves were brought to Helena.

Helena smirked, petting the wolves. "Burn the bodies along with this house."

Laughing, they left the Riddle House and Helena sent the Mark of the Beast into the sky—an eye—over the house.

_The one they called the Beast will be unleashed and a new era of Darkness will begin…_

Diagon Alley was ransacked.

Buildings were caught on fire.

Young children, three to seven or eight at best, were ushered into carts; some were yanked from their screaming mothers and fathers who were then cut down before the children.

Some of the parents, and even others who may not have known the children, were able to rescue the young and apparated as quickly as they could before an anti-apparition shield was raised.

"My lady," Gregory Goyle said, pointing at a rising force of Aurors. "We should go."

"No." Helena said, smirking. She pulled out her wand. "Gather those who aren't taking the children and get them into the front line."

They gathered around her, wands ready.

"Use whatever killing spell comes to mind first, but kill them," Helena ordered, her mouth curling into a maddening smile. "NOW!!!"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!!!"_

"_SECTUSEMPRA!!!"_

_During the Ransack of Diagon Alley, just a few miles away at St. Mungo's Hospital…_

"I was thinking Gaius."

"Gaius? Are you mad?"

"What's wrong with 'Gaius'?"

"Have some mercy on the poor boy, will you? Why not Jeremy? Jeremy Domitian sounds good. There's a Roman Emperor name there like traditional, and he won't have a bullying problem in the future."

"He won't be teased for a name like Gaius. It's a good Wizard name. I had a great-grandfather named Gaius."

"I'm still saying Jeremy. If we have another boy, then I'll let you name him Gaius…what's that grin?"

"Really, Love?"

"Oh shut it, that won't be for another year or two."

"Alright, alright; Jeremy it is." The man took his newborn son in his arms, cradling the babe.

…_When the child of a spy is born, woe to the Beast…_

_

* * *

_

Finally posting this! I know: many of my HP stories feature Hermione as an evil-doer. Don't ask me why. This chapter's just set up for the rest of the story.

"Sleep Not for the Beast Walks" is a futuristic HP story that ignores the events in book 7 and some events in book 6. In comparison to some of my other stories, its a bit heavier in content, just so you know.

But since I'm not sure what you're all going to think of it, please let me know if I should keep posting the story. If not, I'll take it off. I won't do anything regarding this story until the end of the month, based on your vote: keep or drop.

Thank you!  
silverneko9lives0


	2. Chapter 1: The Refuge

Chapter 1: The Refuge

~Winter of 2015~

Remus Lupin knocked on the door. "Jeremy?" He said when there was no answer. He turned the knob and the door opened. "Jeremy, you're not still asleep are you?"

He glanced around the room. Jeremy—surnamed Campbell—wasn't there. Remus sighed and walked to the window. Jeremy was floating around on his broom outside in the cold.

Jeremy had mousy brown hair that curled down his shoulders. He usually tied his hair back despite Remus' urging that Seventy's style hair did not suit him whatsoever. "There you are," he said. Jeremy looked at him with hazel brown eyes that seemed like Cat's Eye crystals. He also had a strong jaw line that made the fourteen year old appear to look much older than just fourteen. "What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing," Jeremy said.

"Well, come on," Remus said, "Or are you planning on skipping breakfast?"

Jeremy flew back to his room. He set his broom on his bed and followed Remus to the dining hall.

The hallway he walked down had high marble arches with angels glancing down at him. The floor was marble, covered with a deep crimson carpet. As he walked he passed the occasional gold engraved vase, cherry oak table covered in a silk cloth with a small statue resting on it, and even other wizards and witches like him.

Most of them, if not all, had lost someone precious to them because of the Beast.

Remus stopped at a great oak door with a more manageable entryway on the right. He opened the door and allowed Jeremy to enter first.

The dining hall also had marble walls, pillars, and floors. The tables, like in the hallway, were cherry oak and covered with white table cloths made of Dragon's Tooth Silk—which was much stronger than normal silk and had a leathery feel to it in contrast. The tables were aligned into a square-spiral like pattern, the younger ones and their parents would sit in the center table—one long table that was connected by the other tables. All in all there were at least one hundred tables connected together to create the dining hall.

Jeremy sat by Remus at the third inner table. Across from him sat Terra Chapman.

Jeremy opened his mouth to say hello, but Cole Ridgeport clapped his back. "Jerry," Cole said. Cole was three years older than Jeremy and Terra, yet all three of them were under care of the Third Councilman.

Cole was tall and powerful in build. His cropped black hair made him rather recognizable—almost no one had cropped hair in the refuge. His azul eyes were friendly enough to gaze at and he had a streak for troublemaking. "Where've you been? I thought you were going to play some late night Quiditch."

"Yeah," Jeremy said, "I just wasn't feeling up to it. Maybe later."

Cole shrugged. "Sure, whatever—Terra, baby," Cole said leaning across the table to peck Terra's cheek.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and looked away. Remus ruffled his hair and shrugged at his wife, Nymphadora—who preferred to be addressed by her maiden name, which was Tonks.

Cole sat down. "Come on, Terra, why you do this to me, huh? Breakin' my heart."

Terra rolled her eyes and smirked at Jeremy. She had dodged Cole's lips again. Cole looked from Jeremy to Terra. "Oh, I get it now."

"Do you really?" Terra asked.

"I'm hurtin', Babe, I don't appreciate bein' treated like that."

"I never liked you," Terra snapped. "Not once."

Cole glared and stood, grabbing a roll. He left.

"Finally, he's gone."

"Terra!" Tonks lectured. Her hair changed from its usual shade of pink to bright red.

"What? I don't like Cole—he's been after me ever since I started getting breasts. Or did you forget how much of a jerk he was to me before."

Tonks wrapped Terra in a one arm hug. "I know," she said, "but that doesn't mean you should be a jerk back."

"She's got a point," Jeremy said. Terra tossed a slice of apple at him. Jeremy grabbed the apple, which had landed in his porridge and stuffed it in his mouth, smirking at her.

Terra smiled at him, her sapphire eyes glinting like Aztec jewels. She bit her cherry blossom lips and shook her obsidian bangs out of her eyes.

Jeremy didn't blame Cole for harboring feelings for her, even if Terra didn't return Cole's feelings. Jeremy himself had always felt captivated by her. He always felt strange when around her. The tingle that always presented itself in his body had yet to go away even after all the time he had known her since coming to the Refuge ten years ago.

The Refuge was a valley area in France that was built around Beauxbaton School for Sorceresses. The school, elegant in itself, had grown to accept more than just witches, but all wizards and witches who were able to escape Helena the Beast's claws.

Covering the whole valley, and even far into the forests and mountains, protecting wildlife of all kinds and establishing education and housing for Underage Wizards and Witches.

The Refuge's outer walls were made of three feet thick stone, thirty stories high, and guarded by eight Dragons, four looking in all directions and four looking in between the directions. Each Dragon was strong and powerful.

Giants also stood guard at each gate. And if that wasn't enough, the Council of Elders established several protection charms around the Refuge to keep it from ever being found.

Beauxbaton, now simply called The School, was the center of politics and learning in the Refuge. Most students were orphans and were given their own rooms and private quarters. Each student would have their own private teacher who lived in the Refuge.

Remus taught Jeremy; Tonks taught Terra. "How are you Jeremy?" Terra asked him.

"Well," he said. "A bit tired, but other than that…"

"You're always tired."

"I don't know about that. Maybe I just say I'm tired."

Remus and Tonks smiled at each other.

"Maybe you do, but I can't read minds," Terra replied tilting her head to the side. Jeremy smirked wider.

"You're going to break Cole's heart."

"Let it," Terra snapped, leaning back in her chair. "I don't care about him—"

"Ouch, you're so cold, Terra."

"So what if I am?" Terra asked. "Maybe I'll just be a femme fatal kind of girl."

"No. You're too nice to be a femme fatal."

"Okay, enough flirting, you two," Tonks said, petting Terra's head. "Big day ahead. Come on, Terra."

Terra and Tonks stood. After giving her husband a quick kiss, Tonks led Terra out of the Dining Hall. "One of these days," Remus said, "You've got to tell her."

"Not happening."

"You're just beating around the bush, Jer," the aging Werewolf said, biting into his apple. "Tell her before Cole finally snaps and steals her first kiss. If he can."

Jeremy glared at Remus, who smiled broadly at him as though it was something he'd usually say. It wasn't. Remus was trying to lighten the mood for the rough day they had ahead.

But if Jeremy could skip his classes for the day he _would _simply because his reason was the day:

It was Monday.

The worst day of the week.

Jeremy hated Mondays because that was History and Meditation—first day of the week be damned! Meditation had become a class after the rise of the Beast when it became imperative that students knew how to control their emotions. Once they turned fifteen, they would begin Occlumency and Leginimency.

His favorite day was Tuesday when his classes were Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. And since Remus was a poor teacher at Potions, Jeremy would have classes with the Third Councilman, who used to be a teacher himself at Hogwarts back at the Island, Norwest of the Refuge (Britain).

He was fairly good at Animology—a class formerly known as Care of Magical Creatures—and Herbology which were on Wednesday.

Friday, he liked almost as much as Tuesday because there was only one class: Transfiguration.

But it was not Tuesday or Friday.

It was Monday.

Jeremy always found History to be dull and he couldn't concentrate during Meditation—Remus tried several different methods, but the most effective method, which was meditating in a waterfall, had even less effect.

They even tried Yoga, but Jeremy had little flexibility.

Remus could only conclude that Jeremy's lack of concentration was due to restlessness.

Remus and Jeremy headed downstairs to the Library and to Room Three Thousand and Thirty-Four.

The Library had various hallways that lead to the various classrooms. Each classroom was designated for different areas of study. Three Thousand and Thirty-Four was the room for History.

The Library was open to everyone for research and study, many students spent time in the library when studying for various subjects. There were even examination rooms where a student's designated Councilman or Councilwoman would test them in various areas of study.

Jeremy had yet to be tested on his potion-making ability, but he had sat through different types of examinations for the Third Councilman and every time the exam would get tougher and tougher.

As much as Jeremy liked the Third Councilman, he was no better than a slave driver on all of his wards.

Cole was lucky to be so close to finishing his days as a ward and finally be accepted as a fully grown, educated wizard.

_At least_, Jeremy thought, _when you become an adult you don't have to take examinations unless you want to be a Councilman or –woman._

Jeremy followed Remus into Room Three Thousand and Thirty-Four.

Actually, calling it a classroom was a bit of a stretch: it was more of a cell for two people.

"I'm sure you'll like today's lesson," Remus said. Jeremy scoffed. He said that when he had Jeremy hear a lecture on Merlin and his time as an Advisor to the Muggle King Arthur and the battles against Morgan Le Fay. Remus ignored him. "I'm sure you've heard of Albus Dumbledore."

_And I'm sure you know that I'm going to have the same reaction I did when we covered Merlin last year, _Jeremy thought.

And off Remus went, speaking of the greatest wizard of the previous century. Not one thing interested Jeremy about the man. He sounded like a crackpot old fool to him, but he dared not speak a word. There were a lot of Wizards and Witches in the refuge that revered Dumbledore as being the only Wizard that the Dark Lord Voldemort—whose name was no longer feared to speak—was frightened of.

"Dumbledore was Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the last fifty years of the twentieth century. Towards the end of his life, he had the privilege of schooling Harry Potter."

_Big whoop,_ Jeremy thought. _Harry Potter was just some glorified kid simply because he was spoken about in some dumb prophecy that never came to pass because the Beast killed him before the prophecy was fulfilled. So stupid…_

"Jeremy, are you listening?"

"Er…We were talking about Albus Dumbledore and somehow moved into Harry Potter?"

Jeremy refused to cower under Remus' piercing stare. Remus sighed and leaned on the desk. "Jeremy, I understand that you don't like history. Not many people were good at history before the rise of the Beast—on the fault of the teacher at Hogwarts."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that there are so many wizards and witches out there that would much rather retake their history courses—if you just tried a little bit harder you'd do fine. You do fine in all your other classes."

"Save Meditation."

Remus bowed his head. Jeremy smirked inwardly. "Maybe I can see if Severus would be willing to take you on for Mondays…"

Jeremy's heart skipped. "Okay! Okay! I'll work harder at History! Just not that! He's hard enough in Potions as it is!"

Remus muttered under his breath. "Fine, but any more and I'll definitely talk to Severus." Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. A bell rang three times—all adults were being called. Remus handed a book to Jeremy. "Here, take notes until I get back."

Jeremy took the book and looked at the cover as Remus left the classroom. _Albus Dumbledore—a Biography __by Hannah Abbott, _Jeremy read. Grudgingly, he opened the book and began to read the introduction…

Remus walked into the throng of men and women heading to the Council Hall underground the School. Tonks stood by him. "Did you get wind of what's going on?"

"Nope," he answered, taking her hand. "Did you?"

"No."

They filed into the room and sat down in their respective seats in the ninth row.

The Council Hall was only used when the discussion was to involve all the adult wizards and witches as a collective. Otherwise, the Council only discussed private matters.

The Council Hall, despite being underground, was rather well lit and had its comforts despite being a place of meeting. There were ten rows that circled around the Lower Table where the Twenty Council Members sat.

Remus, at first, would have rather sat closer to the landing as to get a closer look of Severus.

While Remus continued to be a teacher to some degree, Severus—who only had so much patience—had elevated to the Council almost instantaneously.

Sometimes, Remus would pass his old schoolmate in the halls. Severus actually looked worse for wear than when he was a teacher. Council Members had more responsibility and were the only ones who could leave the refuge and take in orphans.

For instance, Severus had authority over at least twenty children, two already were adults and Cole would be joining them soon. As soon as everyone, it seemed, had taken a seat in the hall, the Council Members entered in rank.

Remus kept his eye on the third Council Member, trying to get a better look at him, but no matter what he did Severus still looked like a blur of black—like an ant—from where he sat.

The First Councilwoman, an elderly witch that previously taught at Beauxbaton, stood at the podium. "I know that some of you were currently in the middle of teaching our young ones," she began, "but this meeting is called in uttermost urgency. The Beast is on the move."

The crowd murmured. Tonks tensed and Remus took her hand, trying to sooth her nerves.

"A black wolf has been spotted by one of the dragons coming from the West, and another black wolf from the North by a Giant. Though we are unsure whether or not this really is a sign that the Beast is on the move, we urge you all to remain cautious. For all we know, the Beast may be looking for the Refuge."

She sat down and Severus stood. "In addition, I as well as the Fifth," he motioned to a young man, "have agreed to accompany a scouting party to see whether this really is a threat or not. If it is, we will return. If not, we will return. We do not wish to engage the Beast in a fight, nor is that our intent. We will need at least eight more able bodied wizards to set up the party."

He sat down. The First Councilwoman stood again. "Dismissed."

Remus and Tonks filed out of the room with the others. "Wolves," Tonks muttered, "All this caution over wolves. They've become paranoid."

"Everyone's paranoid, Nymph," Remus reminded her. "And the Beast does keep two black coated wolves."

"But this is no reason for us to lose our heads! Madame Raquela is becoming cynical."

Remus shrugged. "Maybe, but even if there's a shred of doubt, it should be examined closely. That's how we've survived so far."

Tonks turned to face Remus once they were in the hallway, she crossed her arms and her hair began to darken to red. "Are you saying," she snarled, "That I'm losing my touch?"

"Not at all, just that we shouldn't be led into a false sense of security," Remus said. "I'm going to talk to Severus."

"No, you're not," Tonks snapped, grabbing his arm. "You are _not_ joining that scouting party. Leave it to the young ones."

"You've no problem with Severus going."

"Severus is _not_ my husband. Besides, you have a duty to Jeremy and to our children. I know Severus said that it won't be any more than just a scouting party, but you could get caught none the less. And if you do get caught—"

"We _won't_."

"If you _do_ get caught," Tonks said, "You won't come back—those wolves will tear you all to shreds. And if the Beast is there, she'll massacre every one of you. Remus Lupin, you are _not_ going on that scouting mission. No. I'm not going to let you risk leaving me to raise teenagers on my own, do you understand me? The Order of the Phoenix ended the day Dumbledore died. The moment _Harry_ died. I loved that kid, Remus, as well as his friends, the Beast especially, and she killed him. She'll kill you—don't risk your life just too relive your glory days."

Remus sighed. "Alright, I'm sorry," he said, embracing Tonks. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired of staying in here not knowing what she's doing."

"She's not Hermione anymore, Remus," Tonks sobbed. "Hermione died with the rest of them. You know that."

"She isn't dead," Remus reminded her.

"Not physically," Tonks stated. "But she is dead none the less. How could you even view that woman as Hermione? How?"

Remus rubbed Tonks back.

Tonks did have a point: Hermione Granger was no longer Hermione Granger when she turned seventeen—she became Helena Riddle, the missing Slytherin Princess; Helena the Beast; the Dark Lady.

"I love you," Remus muttered, kissing Tonks' head. "We best get back to work," he said resignedly.

"Oh, that's right," Tonks said, snickering, "Monday."

"Yes. Monday," Remus repeated.

"Good luck salvaging your lesson plan."

"I'm just hoping he at least read the book," Remus muttered darkly, "or off to Councilman Severus he goes."

Tonks laughed and they returned to the library…

Jeremy turned the page. _Chapter Five…_

He hated to admit it, but he rather found Dumbledore's story interesting. _Maybe, _Jeremy thought, _I should ask Ms. Abbott to teach me history instead._

The door opened and Remus came back in. "So," Jeremy said, "What's got old lady Raquela's knickers in a twist this time?"

Remus didn't have the energy lecture him. "Two black wolves were found outside the refuge. She thinks they might belong to the Beast."

"Another Beast Scare?"

"Apparently—hey, it's actually a good thing. Without them we'd be led into a false sense of security."

"What was it last time? A troll wandering around in the woods aimlessly?"

"Yeah, I think so—don't distract me, kid," Remus snapped. "How far are you?"

"Chapter five," Jeremy said. "Can't I just read this stuff and still pass?"

"Not if you expect to retain the information. Let me see your notes." Jeremy handed it to him. Remus stared at it. "Only two pages?"

"I got so wrapped up, I forgot to take them," Jeremy admitted. Remus took the book and flipped through the pages, asking questions. Jeremy answered each question to the best of his ability.

Remus shook his head and handed the book back to him. "Fine, maybe we'll modify the way I teach you history or something. Read the book and give me a five foot report in two weeks on Dumbledore."

"Five feet!?" Jeremy exclaimed. Only the Third Councilman assigned that much work to him.

"Want six feet and due _next_ Monday?" Remus threatened.

"No," Jeremy said. "What did you do? Take tips from the Third?"

"Maybe I did, I don't know," Remus said. "If so, it would have been at least…twenty years ago."

Jeremy glared at him. "You're old," he said before running out the door, Dumbledore's biography tucked under one arm. Remus hid his face in his hand and shook his head.

"I don't want to hear that from a punk," Remus muttered to himself before following Jeremy to the dining hall for lunch.

* * *

well, no one asked me to take it off, so here's chapter 1! Hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter 2: the Scouts' Report

Chapter 2: The Scouts' Report

Most of the scouts that reported their interest were newly initiated adults ranging from seventeen to twenty years of age.

Severus was certain that Remus would join him.

_Maybe Tonks got to him_, Severus thought, _Pity_. "You're only assignment is to scout," Severus reminded them. "If any of you think you'll be allowed to meet the enemy in combat, then you're encouraged to leave my office at once." Severus fixed each one of them with his nastiest glare.

Not one of them stirred.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked them, his gaze hardening further.

No one moved. Some had the audacity to glare back at him.

Severus smirked. "Every one of you better be as smart as you look. You're certainly brave. However, if even one of you so much as _dares_ go against my orders and attacks the enemy, do not—I repeat: do _not_—expect to be rescued. Report to the North Gate at eight o'clock. If you're late, you will be left behind. Dismissed."

The young men filed out. Severus knew that he did say "able bodied men"…to a point, but he wouldn't mind the witches regaining some backbone! He knew some pretty tough ass witches—The Beast was one of them.

He did not forget the Weasley women (_must be from having so many men around them_, he figured). Ginny, when she was alive, was one of his most brilliant students, even if he'd never admit it. Her mother, Molly, was a woman with an iron fist. Tonks, when she was an auror, had more guts than most men. Bellatrix…Narcissa…Minerva…Lily…

Severus wasn't feminist, but having Lily for a friend, being schooled by Minerva, working alongside some of these women and even teaching them, Severus knew both the limits and strengths women had.

Besides, it'd be nice to have a bit more variety.

Severus stood and walked to the window. He saw Jeremy and Remus. _Are they arguing? _He asked himself. _What day is it? _He looked at the calendar. _Of course…Monday. Must be meditation, right now._

Severus looked out the window again seeing Cole and some others playing Quiditch. He ducked.

A bludger crashed through the window, wrecked the office and out the door again.

Severus grabbed his chest and forced himself to stand. "COLE RIDGEPORT!!!" He roared out the window. "GET YOUR SORRY ASS IN HERE!!!"

Cole flew towards Severus, pale faced and nervous. "Sorry, Sir," he said, "I tried to hit it back, but it broke my bat." He held up his bat as proof. The entire thing was in splinters.

"Get in here," Severus said, grabbing the boy by the collar and dragging him inside off his broom. "Start cleaning."

Cole pulled out his wand. Severus snatched it.

"_Without_ magic," Severus clarified. Cole groaned and began to work. Severus left the room to go get a cup of coffee and, if possible, to help Remus beat some sense into Jeremy. Goodness knows, the boy was terrible at History and just as terrible at Meditation.

Severus shivered. The very thought of maybe taking over those two lessons reminded of his time trying to teach Potter Occlumency.

It did not go well—Severus dared not relive it.

His robes billowed behind him as he strode down the hall and out to the courtyard. Remus was reading while Jeremy focused on breathing.

"Huh," Jeremy muttered, twitching. "Who's there?"

"He's getting better," Severus said.

"I really don't know what to do with him," Remus answered back looking up from his book. Jeremy began to laugh. Severus' eyebrows rose towards his hair line. "See?"

"Yes, I do. How is it his concentration is so grand in other areas of his study and yet…"

"I really don't know. I've tried everything," Remus said. "I even went so far as to try Yoga!"

Severus winced. No marauder, such as Remus, had ever gone so far.

"Did anything work?"

"No. Not even Yoga and I was certain it would. He's not ready for Occlumency next year—he'll be left behind."

Severus nodded. "And history?"

"I just found out how to get him to work harder at that."

"Just now?"

"Make him read and take notes. His memory's remarkable, he just doesn't like listening to me drone on."

Severus shook his head. "History's always been a tough subject to get students interested in. But I won't interrupt. However," he exchanged a look with Remus, "let me try something."

Jeremy was now looking at the sky on his back, playing with his fingers.

"Go ahead, I need a headache potion anyway," Remus said. He stood and Severus approached Jeremy. He nudged the boy with his foot. Jeremy looked at him.

"Get up and follow me," Severus ordered. Jeremy did so. He jogged to keep up with Severus' great strides. Severus led Jeremy deep underground.

"Where are we going? Sir?"

Severus stopped at a door and opened it. The door had the number nine etched on it.

"A classroom?"

"It hasn't been used for a while," Severus said, stepping aside. The bookshelves were devoid of books which had been transferred to the library years ago. There was only one square table and two chairs. Severus waved his wand and the dust vanished, leaving the room smelling clean instead of musty. The unused candles burst into flame again floating in the air. "You will sit on the table. If you need to relieve yourself, now is the time to do so."

Jeremy didn't understand what was going on, but he did as he was told and, when he returned, he removed his shoes and sat on the desk, cross-legged.

"I will return in an hour," Severus said, closing the door. "Meditate. Clear your mind and focus only on your breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth. Focus." The door closed and Severus locked the door.

Jeremy felt shivers flow through him when the door closed and locked him in. His only light came from the candles. Jeremy breathed deeply and closed his eyes, resting his hands in his lap. He straightened his back and began to breathe slowly…

"You're sure it will work?" Remus asked Severus. "Locking him in the Ninth Classroom?"

"There is nothing in there, save maybe some rats or mice, but he'll do fine. We'll see how he's doing in an hour."

"An hour!?"

"If you're worried about the bathroom, relax," Severus laughed, "I made sure he went before locking him inside."

"But…an hour?"

Severus shrugged. "He'll still be alive—it's not like I've locked him away for life."

"But don't you have to leave at eight?"

"For crying out loud, Lupin, it's three o'clock," Severus snapped. "Speaking of which, I need to see if my office is back together. Excuse me," he strode past Remus and back upstairs to his office…

Jeremy's mind was blank: nothing coming in, nothing going out. He felt relaxed; off guard. Then he began to have visions:

Everything was black and bronze, sometimes shreds of grey flickered by him. A person's outline approached him and placed their hands on his shoulders, snaking around him into a hug.

_Jeremy…help me…save me…I'm trapped in her clutches…_

_Come with me…_

_Don't take me back there…_

_Terra?_

_I can't go back…_

_Helena saved me…the Beast led me away from that place…everything it stands for is a lie…_

_Terra, is that you?_

"Terra?" he whispered. The door opened and Severus entered. Jeremy jumped and fell off the table. "Ouch!" he cried, clutching his head.

"How'd it go?" Severus asked. Jeremy glared at him.

"Well, until some sort of…I don't know…dream happened."

Severus frowned. "A dream?"

"Everything was gold, black, and grey; someone hugged me and talked to me. I couldn't tell very well, but that's what I saw."

Severus furrowed his brow. "Come on," he said, motioning Jeremy to leave the room, "tell me more about what you remember."

Jeremy stood and went around the table. "I don't know what I saw, all I remember is that the only definite shape was the outline of a person—or at least a person's shadow," he furrowed his brow and scratched the back of his head, trying to remember as much as he could. "The shadow had Terra's voice."

"Terra's?" Severus repeated. Jeremy nodded.

"At least, I think it was Terra's voice—it had something to do with the Beast. She mentioned the Beast. I remember something about the Beast saving her and, at the same time, holding her captive."

"What would Terra need the Beast's protection from?"

"I don't know."

"Captive I can understand. Jeremy, I think this is just some dream, it seems ominous, but it's just a dream. This is good: a few more days and you'll be able to meditate like a pro. You'll be ready for Occlumency and Leginimency in no time."

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

They returned to the ground floor and Severus sent Jeremy on his way so he could get ready for the scouting expedition.

Though Severus passed the vision off as a dream, Jeremy wasn't so sure. He went to go find Terra and ask her if she was feeling alright.

He found her feeding a unicorn colt. Its golden fur glittered brightly in the sunlight. "Terra!" he shouted. She turned to face him and she smiled broadly.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, petting the colt's head as it ate.

"I, er," Jeremy wondered how he ought to ask. She looked fine. "I was wondering if you've been feeling alright. You know, nothing…bad…happened to you…has it?"

"Everything's fine," she answered. "Why?"

"Oh," Jeremy decided it'd be odd to tell her of his dream, "nothing—I just…I was just feeling concerned. But if nothing's wrong, then I was worrying needlessly. I'll see you at dinner, I guess."

"Sure," Terra said.

Jeremy turned to leave, then stopped and turned back to her. "Hey, Terra." She glanced at him again, frowning in growing annoyance. "If you need me, let me know."

She smiled again. "I'll do that."

Jeremy left, feeling rather pleased with himself, even if he did rub her nerves a little bit.

He went to get started on his paper on Dumbledore…

At eight o'clock, the north gate opened and Severus led the group out of the room. Everyone who wanted to be part of the mission was there.

Severus led them out of the Refuge and they walked closer to Norwest with each step.

"How long do you suppose we'll be gone?" Trace Jonson—the Fifth Councilman—asked him, wrapping his cloak around him tighter. "Damn, I hate winter."

"That will depend," Severus answered, "on what happens."

"But this is just a scouting mission," Trace said. "You said it yourself: we shouldn't risk engaging the enemy—"

"That doesn't mean that they'll try engaging battle with us. If that happens, get as many of them back to the Refuge."

"And you?"

"I'll fight if I have to," Severus answered.

Trace sighed. "Madame Raquela won't be pleased."

Severus sneered. "Raquela may be the head of the Council, but she's just as skilled as any Witch, she's aware of the possibility of maybe having no choice but to fight. Groups of two, eighty paces in all directions: spread out!" Severus shouted. The group did so.

Severus waved his wand and a tent appeared behind him. It was large enough for the whole group. Severus waved his wand again and a fire sprang to life in the middle of the snow, blazing blue flames. He stood by the fire as he waited for reports to come in.

A young man, possibly seventeen years old returned. "Reporting from pure north," he said. "There is no sign of a black wolf. But…"

"But?"

"There's a raven."

Severus nodded and he returned to his post. _A Raven? Two creatures of the Beast are this close to the Refuge? What are you planning, Granger?_

"Reporting ten degrees due West," another boy said. "There is no sign of anything unnatural."

"Report back when you've gone eighty paces further than before," Severus instructed. The boy left.

Trace's partner returned five minutes later. "Reporting from Norwest," he said, "Trace has spotted both wolves. Requests for one other team to help subdue."

"Denied," Severus said shortly.

"The wolves have cornered a Unicorn, sir."

"Keep your eyes on the wolves," Severus said, "you are not to help any creatures that those wolves encounter. Is that clear?"

"But sir—"

"_Is that clear?_" Severus snapped.

The boy swallowed. "Yes, Sir," he returned to his post.

From forty degrees due north and west, there was nothing. Thirty degrees due west, there was another Raven. Twenty degrees due north, there was nothing.

The boy from ten degrees due west returned, with still no sightings. Severus called his team back.

Both scouts from forty degrees north and west returned still with nothing suspicious to report. Severus called them back as well.

Twenty degrees due west, there was a dragon's nest. Severus ordered the team back instantly—mother dragons were hell to deal with and he didn't want trouble with dragons.

Twenty degrees due north returned. "Jaguar," he said. "There's a Jaguar in the forest," he said, shaking. "Sir, how many creatures have been found belonging to the Beast?"

"With a Jaguar now among the numbers," Severus said, sipping tea nonchalantly, "five—two wolves and two raven. Return to your post and keep an eye on it. It's just an overgrown black cat."

This did not help the boy, but he returned as he was told to. Twenty degrees due west returned. "Sir, there is nothing."

"Go another eighty paces and report back then," Severus snapped. The boy did so.

The teams he called back returned, shivering from cold and seemingly happy. They passed cups around and talked around the fire, drinking hot chocolate or tea.

Ten degrees due west returned. "We were seen," he said. The chatter died. "A Jaguar," he clarified.

Severus remained impassive on the surface, but inside…he was beginning to feel frightened. "What did it do?"

"Started to attack. My partner sent me here. I'm sure he's stunned it by now."

"If he has, bring the creature back here."

"So we can kill it?"

"No," Severus said, "so we can extract information." The boy bit his chapped lips, but nodded. "Go get the Jaguar and your team can return."

He left.

Severus turned to the boys staring at him, eyes wide with fear. _Cowards, _Severus thought. "That report included, there are all together six animals under the Beast's control in the forest. Two Jaguars, two wolves, and two raven."

"Who already reported, sir?"

"All but thirty degrees north, twenty degrees west, and pure west."

"And if they don't return?"

"If they don't return by morning, assume that they were captured or killed. We'll return without them," Severus said.

"But—"

"That is an order," Severus snapped. "I told you this would happen. I gave everyone plenty of warnings. You will not go to them tonight."

"Twenty degrees due west," another boy said, breathing heavily. "There is nothing. Eighty paces away or one hundred sixty paces."

"You were only supposed to go eighty," Severus snapped. The boy winced.

"We figured we ought to look further before reporting back."

"Tell your teammate to come back to camp," Severus snapped. The boy left to collect his partner. He mentally congratulated the team for such foresight, but recklessness was not something he wanted to deal with.

At least they reported back eventually.

Two more boys returned from different directions. "Norwest," Trace's partner said.

"Thirty degrees due north."

Severus pointed at the second messenger first. "Nothing in our range, sir."

Severus nodded and looked at Trace's partner.

"We followed the wolves as far as we could without being seen—the Beast is coming this way! We saw her ourselves."

"Where the hell is Trace?"

"He…he ordered me to return. He said he'd return in the morning. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen."

"Stay here, you," he looked at the new messenger, "Pull your team back." Severus picked out three others. "You three go get the teams at pure north, twenty degrees due north, and thirty degrees due west. Tell them to get their asses back to camp. I'm going to get Trace."

"I'll go with you," Trace's partner said.

"No," Severus said, "I'll go alone. Be ready for the team bringing a Jaguar—make a cage for the creature or something."

"But…"

"Now!"

The boys ordered to retrieve the remaining teams and Severus apparated. Severus apparated eighty paces: Trace was gone. One hundred paces, still no sign. One hundred and twenty paces. He could see Trace just five paces away, wand ready.

"Trace?"

"Go away," Trace muttered darkly, "I'm busy."

"Trace, we're going back to the Refuge."

"What is the Refuge?" Trace asked, glancing behind his shoulder. "Lady Helena has ordered me to wait for her here."

Severus raised his wand. "Stupefy," he snapped. Trace jumped off the branch he had been occupying.

"Sectusempra!" Trace shouted, waving his wand in a slashing movement. Severus jumped out of the way.

"Trace! You're a Councilman, you idiot! Snap out of it!"

"Crucio!"

Severus dodged again, slipping on the snow laden branches. He apparated to lessen the fall and grabbed Trace from behind. They apparated back to camp.

Trace threw Severus off him and aimed his wand at Severus. "Sectusem—"

"Stupefy!" a chorus of voices shouted. Severus was blinded by red light. Trace fell to the ground, entirely out cold.

"What happened?"

"She tried to brainwash him, I think. Tried to turn him against us," Severus answered, standing. He rubbed his back and stretched. "Maybe I'm getting a bit old for this," he muttered to himself.

Two boys carried Trace into the tent. The Jaguar was already in its cage, peacefully sleeping. Its whiskers and paws twitched, and it grinned.

"We leave in an hour." The group began to complain against him. "It's as we saw: the Beast is in the forest outside the Refuge. If anything, she's looking for it. We need to return and alert the Council—and to prepare for a siege."

"And if it's not a siege?"

"Six creatures, one of them is in our possession, and the Beast herself is coming. It may not seem like it, but it is definitely a siege of some sort. Just because no one saw them doesn't mean that her followers are not around. We are returning in fifteen minutes, get whatever food you want to eat on the way back and get Trace out of the tent."

A stretcher was conjured for Trace and Severus took down the barely used tent and vanished any trace of a fire. They apparated back to the North Entrance. The giant opened the door for them and they entered.

The moment Severus stepped inside he had a feeling that there was more. He looked at the Jaguar and passed the feeling off as paranoia.

The team that caught the Jaguar took the creature to the Hospital Wing with Trace alongside them. Severus strode to Raquela's quarters and banged on the door, which opened instantly.

"Are you mad?" she hissed. "It's three o'clock in the morning, Severus."

"The Beast is coming. She has two pairs of three different animals hunting for the Refuge. We caught one of them so we could extract information. Raquela," Severus began, "She caught Trace."

"Is he alright?"

"He's fine," Severus said, "He's being taken to the Infirmary as we speak. But it was hell getting him back to camp."

"She didn't injure him?"

"More like brainwashed; he didn't know what the Refuge was."

Raquela nodded. "First thing in the morning, present your report to the rest of the Council and a course of action will be decided."

"Sorry for disturbing your sleep, Madame," Severus said. He spun on his heel and left.

"Helena," Raquela muttered, "what are you planning?"


	4. Chapter 3: Dream

Chapter 3: Dream

_Jeremy!_

Jeremy woke in the middle of the night. He sat up in bed and looked around the dark room. He threw the covers off of him and tiptoed to the door. He pulled back a moment later and returned to his bed, but he dared not close his eyes, no matter how much he wanted to.

Deep down in his heart, Jeremy knew something was wrong…

Terra climbed out the window and straddled her broom. A bag slung over her shoulder filled with whatever she needed—food, clothes, her wand—and she urged herself upwards. Two Ravens were waiting for her.

"_This way,"_ they cawed, _"she's waiting."_

Terra flew strait past the Ravens and they flew Norwest. Terra followed them. _I'm not coming back—ever!_

When the sun poked over the mountains, Terra and the Ravens made their descent. Once on solid ground, Terra dropped her broom and ran to Helena, burying her head into the Beast's embrace…

At seven o'clock on the dot, Tonks knocked on Terra's door. Tonks frowned. Normally, Terra would have answered, ready for the day to begin. "Terra, are you awake?" Tonks asked, knocking harder. She turned the handle and the door opened. Entering the room, Tonks noted that there was nothing that seemed really wrong.

Save that Terra was not there.

The bed was perfectly made, the desk was clean of parchment and ink, the floor was devoid of mess. "Terra? Terra Chapman, answer me right now!" Tonks shouted. She ran to the bathroom door and turned the handle. The bathroom was clean as well—cleaner than usual. The shower wasn't running, but the curtain was closed.

Tonks pulled the curtain back.

And ran to find help…

Remus dragged Jeremy out of bed and shoved the half asleep teenager into the bathroom. He turned the water on cold. Jeremy shrieked and cussed. Remus just laughed and left the room. "I'll be back in an hour, alright?"

"Whatever, just get out!"

Remus shrugged and closed the door to Jeremy's room.

"Remus!" Tonks shouted, approaching him. "Have you seen Terra?"

"No. Not since last night."

"She's gone!"

Remus frowned. "Gone? Maybe she just got up early and went to breakfast on her own."

"No—she's gone! She left the Refuge!" Tonks said.

"Nymphadora," Remus said, shaking her, "get a hold of yourself."

Tonks grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway to Terra's room. She showed him her discovery. Remus stared open mouthed at the mark on the bathroom wall.

"But…how?"

"I don't know," Tonks snapped. "All I know is that _she_ was here. _She _must have taken Terra."

"But Terra isn't a threat to her."

"Does that matter to her?" Tonks snapped. "Remus, I may be retired, but I know that something happened last night. I don't know what, but something, I'm certain something happened last night."

"Alright," Remus said. "Tonks, Love, go alert the Council, tell them what you know." Tonks nodded and left the room. Remus glanced at the wall one last time.

An eye stared back at him on the wall. It blinked at him and he left the room.

_What are you up to, Hermione? _He asked himself. _No—she's not Hermione…Helena the Beast…_

Jeremy yawned as he walked into the dining hall. His mood was sour due to not getting enough sleep the night before.

He had forgotten the feeling and fell asleep at five again o'clock. He sat across from Cole, who looked ashen.

"What's wrong with you?" Jeremy snapped harsher than he intended.

"Nothing, I'm…I'm just feeling really sick," Cole snapped, standing. "I'll see you around," he muttered, turning to leave. Jeremy blinked, taken aback. It wasn't like Cole to be so…Jeremy didn't know what to call it. He watched Cole leave as Tonks strode into the hallway with great, purposeful strides. She approached the Council and Jeremy watched her speak to them.

The First Councilwoman stood, "Forgive me for bringing this up around our little ones," she said. "But it is urgent that I tell you all: our walls have been breached. The Beast has found a way inside and has taken one of our students," she exchanged a look with Severus, who nodded. She looked at the masses again. "Terra Chapman has been kidnapped by the Beast last night while the scouting party was away."

Jeremy felt cold. The hall erupted into murmurs.

"How!?" A woman shouted. "How could our walls be breached!? Isn't it your job to keep something like this from happening!?"

Severus stood. "Molly, the charms aren't informadable, nor are the creatures we have stationed around us."

"Then how did she get in?"

"There is only one weak point and that is why the charms are in place—the charms are only so strong. If the Beast has found a way in, it's through the sky."

"Then the Refuge is lacking!" Molly shouted. A man stood and tried to calm her down, leading her out of the room.

"She's right," Severus said, "the Refuge has become lax. The Council will take full responsibility. A party will be sent out to retrieve Terra immediately. In the meantime, every witch and wizard no younger than twenty-five is to help restore the broken charms around the Refuge," he looked at the First Councilwoman who nodded her agreement.

Jeremy stood and ran out the hall.

_Jeremy! Jeremy! Help me! Jeremy!_

Jeremy knocked on Cole's door. "Cole! Cole! Terra's gone!"

The door opened. Cole stared at him in wide eyed shock. "What do you mean Terra's gone?"

Jeremy told him what the Council had said. By the end of it, Cole was seated and his head bowed. "We have to go now while the charms are weak."

"Go?" Cole asked. "Who said I'd go?"

"You're the one who keeps saying how much you love her!" Jeremy shouted back. Cole winced and looked away.

"What's the point of rescuing her if she can't stand to be near me? You should just go alone Jeremy. I can't."

Jeremy grabbed Cole by the collar. "What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you loved her!"

Cole shoved him off. "I do love her!" Cole shouted. "I love her so much it hurts, Jeremy. But I can't get those words out of my head—she loves _you_! Not me, _you_! All she ever wanted was _you_! How can I go after her when all I know is that I'm going to get my heart stomped on?"

"But I can't go alone," Jeremy said.

"Sure you can," Cole said. "If she's been taken by the Beast as you say she did, she's heading Norwest," Jeremy said. "Just go Norwest and you'll find her."

"You're really just going to stay here?"

Cole grabbed a bag and filled it up with food from his pantry. He tossed it to Jeremy then grabbed a spare broom. "Here—this isn't my fastest, but I keep pretty good care of my old brooms."

"I'm aware," Jeremy muttered darkly—the broom he had was one of Cole's spares. Cole opened the window. "But what are you going to do?"

Cole shrugged. "I'll just have to stay here and wait for you and Terra to return." Jeremy flew out the window. "Jerry!" Jeremy turned to Cole. "When you find her, tell I'm sorry—and if you don't keep her safe, I'll bust your skull."

Jeremy smiled. "Got it." He sped upwards towards the sky, high over the Refuge.

He could feel the charms trying to reach out for him, but the broom was in better condition than he first thought.

Once he was far enough, Jeremy looked down at the refuge. From the sky, it looked like a great circle of stone with eight dragons spouting fire every so often. He could even see the charms mending from the sky. He looked for Norwest and descended slowly to just above the trees.

He looked around, unsure what to do. Jeremy descended further into the forest and landed onto the soft snow.

He glanced around and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He shrank the broom and put into the bag. Jeremy began to walk in the direction of Norwest. The trees were wet with snow, some were so wet they had froze and snow stuck to the ice. The snow was so bright it hurt Jeremy's eyes.

He had not been out an hour when he started to feel the chill seep into him. He kept walking—if he flew, he'd freeze further.

And instead of finding Terra, they'd find his frozen, ice encrusted body. Jeremy urged himself to keep walking.

Time began to only divide into two factions: day and night.

Just as the day began to descend into night, Jeremy found a cabin. He ignored the smoke rising from it and picked up his pace. He entered the cabin and slumped to the ground.

"Oh my!" someone shouted.

"What in the blazes?"

Jeremy didn't hear what else they said, as warmth seeped into his bones, he fell asleep…

Jeremy opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. _I guess it was a dream—Terra leaving. I'm still at the Refuge._

"Awake are you?" an elderly woman asked him. Jeremy jumped up at her voice.

_Not a dream._ "I'm sorry—I didn't realize people lived here. I was cold and I—"

The woman laughed. "Oh, it's no bother at all, Lad. My husband and I never get visitors out here; it's quite a relief, even if it was unexpected. Now, what on earth were you doing out walking in the cold all day?"

"My friend," Jeremy began, "she…she was kidnapped from the Refuge by the Beast."

The woman blinked, confused. _She's a muggle, I guess,_ Jeremy thought. _Muggles aren't told about the Refuge. _"It's a type of orphanage."

"And a beast took her?"

"No, the Beast—wait…you don't know about Helena the Beast?"

"What is this? Some sort of title? Oh—I guess it's been a while since I've actually spoken with a wizard," the woman said.

"Wait, you know I'm a wizard?"

"Well, why else do you have a wand? My niece was a witch before she was murdered by some evil wizard who's name she was to afraid to even speak. Called him You-Know-Who. Personally, I thought everyone was being rather silly not just calling him by his name. You don't hear us normal folk going on about Hitler like that and calling him You-Know-Who or The-One-Who-Brought-About-The-Bloodiest-Persecution-in-history."

"You're talking about Voldemort?"

"Was that his name?"

"He's been dead for nearly fifteen years now," Jeremy said. "Helena the Beast is his daughter."

"Well it's no wonder then that you call her the Beast, with a father like that. Is she much like him?"

"Worse," Jeremy said. "Her best friend was the guy who was said to be the one to kill him. She killed her best friends before killing her father and starting her own reign of terror. The Refuge is a safe haven for wizards and witches in Europe. None of her followers can get in. Well, they couldn't."

Jeremy and the old woman sat in silence. After a while, the woman stood. "Well, I can't let you starve, come on, Lad, I'll get you some food."

Jeremy stood and followed the woman into the kitchen. He took a seat at the table and looked around. The cabin was wood on the outside, but had walls made of a material that Jeremy did not recognize. There were pictures hanging on one wall and in the living room, he noted a stag's head and a bear rug. The fireplace was made of stone.

"Why are you helping me?" Jeremy asked. The woman smiled.

"What else could my husband and I do? I hope you don't mind, but you're underdressed for the weather. Since you are traveling, my husband can show you how to work the old snow mobile and we'll get you bundled up properly with a small tent and sleeping bag for you as well as proper provisions—fruit's good, but it won't last you very long."

"But—"

"Did you seriously think we'd cast out a helpless child, no matter how rudely he enters our home? I don't know how things are run at this refuge you talked about, but it's not right to turn out a freezing child."

Jeremy was at a loss for what to say. "Thank you," was the only thing he could think to say—and he truly was grateful. The woman put a plate in front of him.

"Eat up now."

Jeremy nodded. "Thanks," he said again.

The woman sat down. "Now, I'm Mrs. Ringle, Lad. What's your name?"

"Jeremy Campbell."

Mrs. Ringle asked Jeremy about his childhood and the Refuge. "So that's why I've not come across a wizard in so long—and yet they're so close by."

"We rarely ever leave the Refuge. This is my first time away."

"Well," Mrs. Ringle said, "I hope you'll find Terra soon."

"Thanks," Jeremy said, "but I have a feeling it'll be a long time coming before I see her again."

"I believe in you, Jeremy. Be sure to stop by and introduce me to Terra once you come back."

Jeremy promised to do so. The door opened again and an elderly man entered. He nodded at Jeremy. "Good to see your up, Boy," he said. He removed his gloves and reached out for Jeremy's hand. Jeremy took the hand in his and shook firmly. "Good strong grip. Trisha's taking good care of ya I see."

"Yes, Sir," Jeremy answered. Mr. Ringle sat down and asked Jeremy what he was doing in the middle of nowhere during winter.

Once Jeremy had relived his tale, Mr. Ringle glanced at his wife.

"We hardly use the snow mobile any more, John," Mrs. Ringle said. "I doubt it'd be much of a bother to let the boy have it."

"Of course not, it'd make travelling easier for sure. At least until he reaches the ocean or a city," Mr. Ringle turned his gaze back on Jeremy. "Which direction are you headed?"

"Norwest," Jeremy answered.

"Norwest…" Mr. Ringle stood and went to a drawer. He rummaged through the contents before taking out a map. As he opened the map, he returned to the table. "Here is where we are," he said, pointing at a mountainous area. "You're best bet is to go to Paris and from there, take a plane—but you're a wizard, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"No plane then," Mr. Ringle drummed his fingers on the table.

"But I have a broom…"

"To fly across the English Channel?" he asked. "I'm not so sure that'd be safe enough…especially in this season."

"What else can I do, then?" Jeremy asked.

Mr. Ringle scratched his chin. "Well," he looked at his wife. "What do you think? We could get him a train to London from Paris."

Jeremy blanched. "I can't let you do that!"

"And why not?" Mrs. Ringle said. "The more time we spend figuring out how to get you across the Channel, the more time you end up wasting, and a train will certainly be faster than flying on a broom."

Jeremy opened his mouth to argue. He owed them enough—if he let them pay for a train ticket to London, he couldn't see how he'd ever be able to repay them.

_But…should I really say no? I need all the help I can get… _"Thank you," he finally said, "I really don't know how I'm ever going to repay you both."

Mr. Ringle didn't say anything, but clapped his hand on the table and stood. He walked over to a group of metal boxes and pressed a button. The smaller box came to life and he sat down. Jeremy went to watch what he did, fascinated.

"What is that?" he asked Mr. Ringle.

"This," Mr. Ringle said, "is a computer. Once it's fully functioning, we'll buy a train ticket to London from Paris for you, Lad. It's about a day and a half drive to Paris on a good day, but with this weather…it might be about two, maybe three days."

"On a snow mobile?"

"In a car," Mr. Ringle clarified.

"But I can't ask you for more than you've already done," Jeremy said. "I can't possibly repay you."

"True, but I never said anything about you owing us, Lad," Mr. Ringle reminded him, smiling.

Jeremy sighed and looked around the room. The door opened and a giant of a man came in. Jeremy blinked. "Hagrid?"

"Jeremy, good to see your up," Hagrid said.

"But…but you…"

_This has to be a dream! _Jeremy thought. He pinched himself. It didn't hurt. _It's a dream. I have to wake up. Wake up!_

"Tea, Hagrid?" Mrs. Ringle said, handing a great mug to Hagrid.

"Don't mind if I do, Ma'am."

_Hagrid isn't here. Hagrid died in the war against the Beast. Wake up!_

"Going to save Terra, Jeremy?"

"Y…yeah."

"Then what the bloody hell are you asleep for? WAKE THE BLOODY HELL UP!!"

Jeremy started, forcing his eyes open. He was in some sort of carriage. Jeremy wondered what had happened—all he remembered was that he had left the refuge to look for Terra.

Jeremy looked around the carriage. The carriage was small and warm. A screen separated him from the man driving. "Excuse me," he whispered. Jeremy cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

"Yeah?" the man asked.

"What happened?"

"You were found passed out in the snow, kid. What were you doing in the forest?"

"I…" Jeremy fumbled with what he ought to say. "I don't…remember…" he lied.

The man shrugged. "What's your name?"

"Jeremy Campbell."

"Where are you headed?"

Jeremy didn't know. But the dream…the dream! "London."

"London? You're a long ways off, kid. You got money for that?"

Jeremy blanched. "No."

"Then you're screwed deep, kid."

Jeremy got closer, grabbing the screen for support on the rocky road. "Is there a way for me to get to London? I'll work off my fare if I must, but I have to get to London—ouch!" Jeremy let go of the screen and sat back down, rubbing the top of his head.

The man muttered something under his breath. "Fine, here's the deal, I'll get you a ride to Paris. From Paris, go to the police station and say that Giles Tenence sent you. Someone will help you."

"Thanks."

"You owe me," Giles snapped.

Jeremy didn't care, "I owe you deep."

"Good to know you're smart."

Jeremy sighed with new relief. Giles asked no more questions and they stopped at a bus station. "Is that all you have?" Giles asked Jeremy, looking at the bag slung over Jeremy's shoulder. Jeremy nodded. Giles shrugged. "What are you, a hitchhiker or something?"

Jeremy didn't answer, nor did Giles press further.

After a moment, Giles handed Jeremy a ticket. "This will get you to Paris. Remember what I told you?"

"Go to the police station and tell them that Giles Tenence sent me."

"Alright, your bus leaves in ten minutes—number twelve for Paris, that way," he pointed behind Jeremy, who looked behind him and saw a bus with a bright green number twelve. Jeremy thanked Giles again and ran to the bus. He handed the ticket to the driver and looked for a seat. He sat in the back of the bus.

Jeremy looked out the window to see if he could find Giles, but the park ranger had already left.


	5. Chapter 4: James Evans

Chapter 4: James Evans

Paris was as quiet as it was beautiful.

Jeremy got off the bus. He looked around for someone dressed in uniform like Giles, or similar wear. Before he could even decide what he was going to do, a woman approached him. "You need to get off the platform, boy," she lectured. Jeremy looked at her and blinked.

She was dressed in a uniform of some sort, and a thick coat.

"Do you know Giles Tenence?" he asked.

The woman raised a thin, penciled eyebrow. "Yes, why?"

"I was told to go to a police station and tell them that he sent me," Jeremy told her. The woman took his arm and led him to a small building.

"Why would Giles send some kid like you?"

"I don't know," Jeremy said, "maybe he thought they'd help me get to London."

The woman silenced him with a finger and picked up some sort of device that Jeremy did not recognize. "201, this is 345 calling in, over."

"345, this is 201, over," a man's voice came from the box that the device she held in her hand was attached to. "What seems to be the situation, over?"

"Tenence sent a kid to Paris—thinks we'll help him get to London, over."

"Oh yeah…Tenence called in to let the chief know, over."

"Why wasn't I notified, over?"

"I thought you were told already. Is the kid there, over?"

"Yes, over."

"Give him some hot cocoa or something. I'll pick him up, over."

The woman set the device down on the box. "Okay. Here's what's going to happen, she said to Jeremy, "Richard is going to pick you up and take you to the station; from there you're on your own. You want something to drink?"

Jeremy nodded. The woman stood and grabbed a package and a white cup. She opened the package and poured the contents into the cup. She grabbed a kettle and poured the water into the cup. She took a thin red and white straw and stirred the contents inside.

She handed it to Jeremy. "Here you are. Drink up."

"Thanks."

"Of course," she said, she sat at the desk and looked outside. She cursed and grabbed a stick. "Stay there," she said to Jeremy as she ran out the door. "Hey! Evans! Get your sorry ass back here! Don't run from me you worthless piece of…"

Jeremy looked around nervously.

The room was small and cramped. There was a door on Jeremy's left and three more seats to his right. He sipped the steaming liquid and was pleased to notice it was hot chocolate. The wood was hard and grey like stone, but it had no cracks between rocks.

_Perhaps it's just one big rock,_ Jeremy thought.

She came back, guiding a man with a rugged face, layers of clothes, and long, unruly black hair. His eyes were covered in dark thin sunglasses. Jeremy thought that, despite his outward attire, he seemed rather…cool.

"When Rich gets here, you'll be in more trouble than it's worth Evans," she snapped.

"Ooh, Richie's coming," he said sarcastically, "I'm shaking in my boots I'm so scared."

Marie growled under her breath. Evans fingered something in his pocket. Curious, Jeremy watched him. He saw a little bit of wood being twirled in Evans' hand. _Is he a wizard?_

A car pulled up and a dark skinned man came in. "Marie, how're you doing?"

"I've been better," she said darkly. The man looked at Jeremy and Evans.

"Ah, Jimmy," he muttered. "What the hell, man. Causing trouble for little Marie again?"

"What can I say?" Evans said, "She won't leave me alone—even though I do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!!"

"Go to hell."

"Been there, done that," Evans sang.

"You know, I still gotta take you down town, Man," Richard said, "The kid, too."

"What?" Evans looked at Jeremy. "Come on! Let the kid off the hook, Mate. It's just a kid."

"He's not in trouble. You remember your old pal Giles right?"

"The mate that ditched police work to become a park ranger? Yep. How could I forget?"

"The kid got here on his time."

"Lucky," Evans said, ruffling Jeremy's hair. Jeremy shoved him off. "Giles does have a heart."

Marie groaned. "I don't want to deal with a drunk, right now."

"I," Evans said, leaning forward in his chair, "am not a drunk, but a well cultivated individual who just so happens to like a well cultivated drink."

"You're a drunk," Jeremy muttered under his breath.

"Whatever," Richard said, "come on, Man. Lassie," he said to Jeremy, whistling. Once they were in the car, Richard shook his head. "Look, Jim, I'm glad you made my job of looking for you easier, but you know not to get near Marie—especially since, well…"

"I know, I know, Mademoiselle Marie Eifelle just doesn't think I'm actually sober."

"When you talk about Wizards and Witches and all other kinds of shit, it's gonna scare the kids."

Jeremy looked at Evans. "So you are a wizard?"

Evans looked at him and pulled out his wand. "You could tell?"

Jeremy reached into his bag and pulled out his own wand. Wands from the Refuge were made of acacia wood, and were usually thin. Evans' wand was thicker and made of darker wood. "You call that twidlestick a wand?"

Jeremy's anger flared. "At least it's not a branch."

Evans grinned and looked at Richard. "I like this kid."

"Good," Richard said, "Because I've got a little job for you with a little moolah to share."

"Do tell."

"The kid's on his way to London. But you can tell he's too young to use that disappearing and reappearing act you do."

"You want me to babysit?" Evans snapped.

"What else are you going to do? You're a multibillionaire who lives in a junk heap back in London."

"Okay, just because I live in the slums but have a lot of money doesn't mean I'm going to take some snot nose kid off your hands!"

"Will you do it or not?"

"N—"

"I'm trying to find a friend—I think she's in London. All you have to do is take me there," Jeremy interrupted. Evans glanced at him. "That's all you have to do."

Jeremy and Evans stared at each other intensely, neither backing down. Finally, Evans swore under his breath. "Fine, I'll take him to London. Give me my money and we'll be out of your hair."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"But—"

"I'm taking the kid to London now with or without the money you promised me, Richie," Evans said.

Richard sighed and pulled into a parking lot. He thumbed through his wallet and handed crisp Euro dollars to Evans. Once Evans had pocketed the money, he grabbed Jeremy's shoulder.

Jeremy felt as though he was sucked through a thin tube. When the sensation vanished, he struggled to refill his lungs.

He looked around and noticed they were in some sort of apartment.

"Welcome to London, kid," Evans said, discarding his gloves and coat. Even though they were inside, Evans refused to take off his sunglasses. He wore a form fitting black t-shirt under a sweater. Though it was a little difficult to tell, Jeremy could just barely see that Evans was actually rather…ripped…Evans did not take off the boots. "And to the slums of London—White Chapel."

"You live here?"

"Got a problem with that?" Evans asked opening the refrigerator and pulling out two instant dinners.

"I thought the officer said you were a multibillionaire."

"I am—I just don't flounce it in front of people's faces like other richies. I prefer this sort of lifestyle. I've always preferred living simply." He put one dinner in a box and pressed a few buttons.

"But you could live in a better place!"

"Do you want my help or not?" Evans snapped. "I like the way I live and I'm not into the idea of changing that." The box began to beep and Evans opened it and took the dinner out, setting it on the counter. He put the second dinner inside and repeated the process.

Jeremy looked around the room stiffly. There were several clippings from the daily prophet—most were old and had something to do with the Golden Trio, Harry Potter, or Helena the Beast. One headline caught his eye:

HARRY POTTER AND ALBUS DUMBLEDORE—MURDERED!!!

Jeremy got up and went to get a closer look. The photo above it was a picture of three smiling friends. The boy in the center, Jeremy noted, was Harry Potter himself.

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Has the hope of the Wizard World been snuffed? Or is it all just some sort of cruel joke? Last night, on Hogwarts grounds, Death Eaters wrecked havoc._

"_We were all very frightened," Susan Bones said. "Everyone was in a panic! Professor Dumbledore and Harry were gone, so we were in absolute chaos. Ron Weasley tried to help us all organize, but he was killed too!"_

_Ron Weasley, the Boy's best friend, died valiantly alongside his younger sister Ginerva Weasley. However, the nature of their death was not the Killing Curse, but a different, quite violent spell that is unknown to our experts._

_Dumbledore himself died at the hands of one of his students—whose identity is yet to be confirmed._

_Harry Potter, the wondrous Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the Champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament two years prior, was found killed by the same spell that killed his friend Weasley and his lover, Weasley's darling younger sister..._

"Are you going to eat?" Evans asked.

Jeremy sat at the folding table and began to eat. "The article about Potter's death," he said. Evans tensed, but Jeremy went on. "That spell, it was Sectusempra, wasn't it?"

"It was."

"But that spell has been around for almost half a century if not more. Why wasn't it identified?"

"It was a newly created spell at the time of Potter's death," Evans said. "The guy who created that spell was Severus Snape, a former teacher at Hogwarts School—"

"That's a lie," Jeremy snapped. Evans looked at him sternly from behind his shades.

"You calling me a liar, kid?"

"I know Severus Snape. He's harsh, yeah, but he'd never create a spell to kill people."

"Shows what you know," Evans muttered. "Whether you like it or not, Severus Snape did create that spell when he was a student at Hogwarts, probably around your age."

"I'm fourteen."

"Close enough. He was about fifteen or sixteen at least when he made that spell. For enemies was all he gave to what the spell did."

"You still don't know a thing about him!"

"Do you? Obviously you think he's some sort of hero. Listen carefully: there's no such thing as heroes, kid. All heroes do is get themselves killed. Potter is good proof of that. Force heroics on a kid and look what happens: he gets his head lopped off by someone he thought was a friend."

"The Beast," Jeremy muttered.

"Good, you did get an education," Evans said sarcastically. "Here's another fact you can shove into your brain: don't call her 'the Beast.' Or Helena for that matter—her name is Hermione Granger."

"Who?"

"That article you were reading, that picture's old. It was taken when Harry, Ron, and Hermione were first year students. If you want a rough idea of what 'Helena the Beast' looks like, look at Hermione Granger and you've got her."

Jeremy finished eating before looking at the girl. Her hair was very curly and she had a cute round face and a bright friendly smile. "That's Helena?"

"Hermione," Evans snapped. "But yes, that's 'the Beast.'"

Despite the smiling face, Jeremy felt white hot anger surge through him. "I'll kill her," he muttered.

"What?" Evans asked, blinking. "Did she kill your family or something?"

"That's not why I want to kill her," Jeremy growled. "She took my friend right out of the Refuge."

"Refuge…Oh…you're from the Refuge."

"If you heard of it, why don't you live there?"

"Not interested. I severed my ties to the Wizard World ages ago."

"Why?"

"None of your business," Evans growled. "What I do is up to me."

"My reasons for killing Hel—Hermione are my own."

"But," Evans said, "You said she took your friend. The charms around the Refuge are only strong so long as the Refuge remains safe for even _one _person. That's how the charms work. The only way Hermione can get in and take someone is if something happens to weaken the charms on the inside."

"But why Terra?"

"Because Terra was the victim," Evans said. "If I know Hermione—and I do—she promised Terra something. Safety, revenge, power, strength, whatever it might be your dear little Terra needed in order to exact revenge."

"How do you know this?"

Evans paused, blinking under his shades. "Intuition…" he said after a minute.

"You're lying," Jeremy snapped.

"Then how do you know what I say about Hermione Granger and Harry Potter is true?" Evans asked. "Merlin's Beard! Stay here, I'll be back in the morning."

"Where are you going?"

"Work," Evans said, grabbing his jacket, gloves, and hat.

"I thought you were a multibillionaire hobo drunkard," Jeremy said.

"Shut up," Evans snapped, apparating.

"Where does he work?" Jeremy asked no one in particular. He busied himself reading the articles posted on the wall…

James Evans entered the Leaky Cauldron and approached the bartender. "James," he said. "You're back already."

"Don't sound so disappointed. What's the latest on Hermione's whereabouts? She wasn't in France—or she left before I could find her."

"No new information came in yet. I'm sure your informant will be back soon. Something to drink?"

"Firewhiskey," he said. "Look, at the moment, I've got some kid that's looking for Hermione by himself. When my informant comes, ask her if there's anything about a new follower or a captive or something."

"You can ask me yourself," an oriental woman snapped, having apparated into the pub just a moment before. "Just butterbeer for me," she said to the bartender. "She's back at her base."

"Well, at least I won't have to piss Marie off again. Stupid woman."

"And she did bring a girl back with her. A girl named Terra Chapman who used to live in the Refuge."

"And am I right as to how that girl got into Hermione's clutches?"

"Wants revenge? Trying to escape? Feels weak and insignificant? Thinks that a murderous, takes-delight-in-castrating-men feminist can help her? Did I hit the mark yet?"

"Bull's-eye," James muttered, raising the glass to his lips.

"Well, that's dear little Terra's situation. Why? How'd you know?"

"Terra's got a friend staying at my place right now. A kid named…starts with a J…"

"Jaimee?"

"No—a boy."

"James?"

"That's my name."

"No it isn't," the woman snapped, "Jason?"

"Not it either…Jeremy, that's it."

"Jeremy. I can see if I can get close enough to Terra to ask her about it."

"No. I think this'll be the perfect opportunity for me to finally confront Hermione after seventeen years. Or was it eighteen. I lost count."

"No idea," the woman said. "You sure you're ready to see her again after what she did to you?"

"Yes, Cho, I am," Evans growled. "I have to see her, even if it kills me."

Cho shook her head. She opened her purse and counted the coins before setting them down on the counter. "Thanks for the drink, Nev. Lady Darkness calls."

"Eh?" Cho raised her right hand, gloved in black. "Oh."

"Later Jimmy, Nev," Cho apparated. James looked at Neville.

"So, how's life with the Missus?"

"What Missus?" Neville snapped.

"I don't know? Is there a Missus?"

"At times I wonder why we didn't go to the Refuge. Then there might be a Missus."

"Are you kidding me?" James asked. "I'd rather die than be cooped up in some fortress."

"What about the hot French chicks that might be down there?"

"Don't tempt me," James said. Neville snickered. "I'm not going there. Ever. I'll be found out sooner than I'd like if I do."

Neville shrugged.

The door burst open and a man strode in. "I'm looking for Harry Potter."

"You're a bit behind the times buddy," Neville said, taking a cigarette and lighting it. "Harry Potter has been dead for almost twenty years now."

"No," the man said. "I know that he's alive. He's sitting right in front of you."

James glanced behind him at the man.

The man, a wizard no doubt, had an angry expression on his face. "My entire family was killed by the Beast and you—the guy that's supposed to save us from her—you're just sitting there drinking!"

"I think you're confused, Mate. I'm not Harry Potter."

The man grabbed James' collar and slammed him against the wall. "Don't sit there and lie to me, you good for nothing, sorry excuse of a man!"

James pried the man off him and took off his sunglasses. Bright green eyes dulled with age and wisdom of one who's seen too much pain—too much sorrow—glared back at him. "Now that you've found me, I'll have to apologize."

"For what?" the man growled.

James—Harry—pulled out his wand and aimed it at the man, "Obliviate." James put his sunglasses back on. "Look at me, sir, do you know who I am?"

"N…no."

"Why are you here?"

"I…I don't remember."

"If you're not going to buy a drink," Neville said, "then get out of my pub." The man left. Neville turned to Harry. "How many times are you going to do that to people who realize you're alive?"

"As many as it takes to keep them from blabbing. Harry Potter is dead and he'll stay dead until I talk to Hermione."

"What if she doesn't want to talk?"

"Then I'll make her at least listen to what I have to say until they go back to the dead."

"Suicide?"

"What would be the difference? People already think I'm dead."

Neville sighed. "I know you've been planning this—but you know there's no nobility in suicide."

"Most people I cared about either died or went to the Refuge when the Beast came into power. It's the only thing I can think of to do."

"What if that kid you talked about needs you?"

James ignored him, forking out his pay. "You didn't see me."

"Never did, never have," Neville muttered as James apparated back to his apartment.

_**Thus Ends Book 1: Breach**_


End file.
